Friend Of A Cannibal

Chapter Seven

Wednesday, 4:02 PM.

Eleanor sits in her car, holding her phone, staring at Hannibal's number in her contacts. Her ringtone blares from the phone in her hand and it startles her. A call from an unknown number. But she answers it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Is this Eleanor?" His voice is familiar.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Luke, Chanel's friend. You gave me your number at the club on Saturday." He says.

"Oh. I remember. How are you, Luke?"

"I'm good. You know that bookstore down the street from the club we were at?"

She nods, even though he can't see. "Yes, I know the one."

"I'll be there tomorrow around five. Meet me there? I'll bring coffee."

She glances in the mirror and thinks, why not? "Sure. I'll see you there, Luke."

Now, where was I? She sees Hannibal's number again. Right. She types out a message and sends him it, and he replies quickly.

[Eleanor]
I need to talk to you. I can't wait until Friday.

[Hannibal]
You don't have to. You can call me, or come over if you prefer.

[Eleanor]
I'll be there soon.

She puts her phone back in her purse and drives, her heart racing. Surely, a talk with Hannibal would clear this up and put her anxious mind to rest on the matter.

As always when they meet, Hannibal takes her coat and they engage in a bit of small talk. They sit on the sofa together, but it feels natural. Being close to him feels natural.

"I sense that something is troubling you, Nora." He says. His voice is quiet, he knows she's nervous.

"Who is Will Graham?" She asks.

He sighs deeply, exhaling through his nose before answering her question. "He was a colleague of mine. Years ago. How do you know him?"

"He came to my house and told me that you're dangerous. He told me that many of your past patients were murdered and he told me to stay away from you." She looked him in the eyes, awaiting his response.

"He did?" Hannibal touched his face in thought.

"Yes. He thinks you murdered them. Did you know that?"

"I do know. He really doesn't like me. We used to be close. He's not the only one who thinks I murdered my patients. Most of the FBI does. I don't know why, seeing as they caught a few of the killers who obviously weren't me." He sighs again, looking at her.

Just as she thought. Hannibal had nothing to do with it. "The whole thing is strange, but I didn't think you had anything to do with it. I trust you, Hannibal."

"I'm glad you do. I would never hurt you, Eleanor." He leans in closer to her, their faces only inches away. She tilts her chin toward him, her full lips close to his, her eyelids half-shut. He cups her cheek with his hand, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. He leans in just a bit closer and kisses her softly, his lips molding to hers gently.

His kiss is sweet. It starts out innocent. Her hands wrap around his neck and he pulls her in closer. He can't deny that he desires to touch her, feel her. He can't remember feeling this way about anyone before, physically yes, but never emotionally. He doesn't know if this is love, he's not even sure if he knows what love is. But he's so attracted, he's falling so hard. He determined to make her his, and only his.

His hands travel down her body, resting on her hips. It's been so long since someone touched her like this, she can't stop herself. Her hands push his coat off of his shoulders and he assists her in taking it off, then her hands go right to his chest, smoothing over it. Their hungry for each other, their kiss gets deeper by the second. But Hannibal pulls his head away only to kiss along her neck and collarbones.

He picks her up, bridal style and carries her to his bedroom. He will treat her like a queen. His queen. His.

[A/N: I'm just gonna end this here because at the moment I don't feel like writing smut but there might be some in the future. Thanks for reading.]